


What Have We Done?

by greatermistral



Category: Saints Row
Genre: Aisha mentioned, Alot of swearing, Carlos mentioned, Gen, Grieving, Saints Row 2 - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-23 06:03:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4865780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greatermistral/pseuds/greatermistral
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after the Saints Row 2 missions "Bleeding Out" and "Red Asphalt". I'm always a little disappointed that we don't get to see Johnny/the Boss dealing with Aisha/Carlos's deaths, so I wrote this guessing how they might have done that. The Boss and Johnny discuss their deaths and get their emotions out in the open.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Have We Done?

Sitting on the roof of the old mission house, the Boss could hardly believe that this was the same old Stilwater. Bright lights littered buildings giving the once glum skyline an almost cheery edge.

Not that it made a single fucking difference.

Aisha was dead. Carlos was dead. Gat had only just got out of hospital after having a sword plunged through his middle. Everything was going to shit.

The Boss poured another shot from the bottle they have picked up on their way to the roof and downed it, relieved that whatever it was burned their throat enough to ensure they would get drunk pretty fast. Just one night of not having to keep a controlled face on, just one night of not having to pretend that all this wasn’t getting to them was all they wanted. Needed, even.

The door to the roof swung open and the Boss turned to see who it was, ready to tell them to fuck off. When they saw who it was, they bit their tongue. Johnny, with bottle in his hand, had obviously had the same idea. As much as he didn’t want to admit or show it, Eesh’s death had hit him pretty hard. He set himself down beside them.

“Pretty shit couple of days, huh?” He took a swig from the bottle, not bothering with a glass. The Boss barked out a bitter laugh and Johnny turned to face them, taking the permanent fixture that was his sunglasses off.

“I think that’s a fucking understatement,” and suddenly all the emotions that they had been trying so hard to hide came bubbling to the surface, and they poured and down another drink. “Aisha’s dead. You nearly got killed cause of me. Carlos got killed because I wasn’t fast enough. What the hell is going on?”

Johnny looked at them as near to sympathetic a sociopath could get, and took another swig of his drink. He looked down. “I couldn’t save her. She’s dead and it’s all my fault. I should of kept her as far away as possible from all this shit.”

This time it was the Boss’ turn to try and offer a sympathetic look. Luckily for him, Johnny was still staring at the bottle he held. “I’m sorry we couldn’t save Aisha, Gat. She was really good for you”.

“Yeah, well, I’m sorry about Carlos too. Pretty shitty way to go.” At the mention of Carlos, the Boss gripped the glass in their hand so tight their knuckles began to turn a paler colour. Carlos was still raw – it had only been yesterday the Boss had been tearing up the roads trying to save him.

“He didn’t fucking deserve it, Gat. He did nothing to the Brotherhood. Everything we did was my idea, me being the main one to execute my plans. He was just trying to learn,” anger overwhelmed them and the glass was thrown in rage, smashing against a vent across from them. Their anger raised their voice to a shout. “He was a good fucking kid and he deserved better, and I’m going to make that bitch Jessica pay if it’s the last thing I do. And that motherfucker Jyunichi, too.”

Gat had lifted his head at the outburst, and nodded as the Boss declared their revenge. “That’s right. That’s what we gotta do. As much as it fucking sucks, we got to pick ourselves up, and show these motherfuckers you don’t hurt the Saints like that,” his eyes watered up, and the Boss couldn’t decide if it was from the alcohol or being able to express his feelings about Aisha, but either way, it was a strange sight. “And we gonna do right by Eesh and Carlos, and we’re gonna make these fuckers wish they could fucking time travel or some shit to bring ‘em back”.

“A-fucking-men,” the Boss raised their bottle in a toast. “To the people who made the Saints great and are no longer with us!”

“To them!” Johnny tapped his bottle against theirs, and they both took a swig, spending the next half an hour drinking and planning their revenge.


End file.
